![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
cimoreneI've noticed a distinct pattern in some fannish people I know IRL, which is that the ones who don't Go Here in fandom never know when people and movies are canceled or on notice and usually haven't even heard a hint of why they're problematic, leading to hundreds of instances of this conversation:
Explaining the controversy isn't that difficult if it's just something like "Actually it turns out that the director/writer went on a bigoted rant/has been accused of sexual harrassment" or "The role of X was whitewashed". But in the case of the well-meaning but clueless social-justice-supporting white people - initially mostly my parents, but a few members of my generation who just happen to also be Luddites - they never seem to notice cultural appropriation, white savior narratives, fridging, or unfortunate political ramifications, and the repetitiveness of this same consciousness-raising conversation with its small list of curated reference links starts to feel uncomfortably didactic, especially because the more awkward I feel, the harder I have to work to explain coherently.
The temptation is strong to just say nothing about it to escape this, but it seems a bit shady to not even indicate I was put off by something about it, if they were engaging me in fannish conversation in good faith.
THEM: I saw [media thing associated with a controversy].
ME: Yikes...
THEM: It was so good!
Explaining the controversy isn't that difficult if it's just something like "Actually it turns out that the director/writer went on a bigoted rant/has been accused of sexual harrassment" or "The role of X was whitewashed". But in the case of the well-meaning but clueless social-justice-supporting white people - initially mostly my parents, but a few members of my generation who just happen to also be Luddites - they never seem to notice cultural appropriation, white savior narratives, fridging, or unfortunate political ramifications, and the repetitiveness of this same consciousness-raising conversation with its small list of curated reference links starts to feel uncomfortably didactic, especially because the more awkward I feel, the harder I have to work to explain coherently.
The temptation is strong to just say nothing about it to escape this, but it seems a bit shady to not even indicate I was put off by something about it, if they were engaging me in fannish conversation in good faith.
